


Make You a Sub

by Mrs_SimonTam_PHD



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Human, Bit of Brat!Dean, D/s elements, Dinner Party, Dom!Death, M/M, Ship: Fried Food, Snark, Sub!Dean, Whoever said Doms don't have to suck up to their subs DOESN'T KNOW D/S, married, mentions of Dean in Panties, mild frottage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 14:41:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13929201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD/pseuds/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD
Summary: Dean and Julian are hosting a dinner party, and Julian's response to how they met makes Dean a very unhappy man.





	Make You a Sub

**Author's Note:**

> So this Fried Food fic is brought to you in part because @talkmagically sent me a picture that had the drawing of a ball gag that says "He said 'Make me a sandwich'. So I made him a sub." and told me this would be perfect for Fried Food. And I got inspired. Yup.

Dean laughed at a joke that one of Julian’s friends had made and turned back to eating his dinner. 

Julian’s group of friends hosted a dinner party once a month and this month, it was Julian and Dean’s turn. Dean had slaved away in the kitchen creating the ‘cookout’ dinner that he and Julian were known for, complete with burgers, hot dogs, deep fried pickle chips (Julian’s favorite), homemade potato chips. . . Dean did not ever skimp out on making his infamous cookout dinner, with Julian helping out. 

There was a new guest there tonight, a new employee at Julian’s funeral home who was watching Dean and Julian with an amused eye. They both ignored it. It didn’t matter to them that Dean was half of Julian’s age- Julian’s 60, Dean’s 33- and they had been married for five years. And they were still ridiculously in love, if Dean had to be honest. 

Julian caught Dean looking at him and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Enjoying yourself?” 

“Always,” Dean smiled, turning his head to look at Julian, resting his forehead on his husband’s. 

“Okay,” Kurt- the new guy- said with a laugh, “I knew Mr. Richings was married and that he was a lot younger than he was. But I gotta ask-  _ how  _ did the two of you meet? I mean, Mr. Richings, your husband is incredibly handsome. How does a man like him end up marrying someone twice his age?”  

Dean opened his mouth to shovel pickle chips into it. He hated answering this question. Julian usually told people to either shut up or the version that Dean prefers to have told. He  _ hated  _ how they actually met. And Julian knew it. He couldn’t help but preen under the compliment, though. 

Apparently, luck was not on his side tonight. 

Julian cleared his throat. “Well,” he said, giving that smirk. Oh, Dean knew that smirk. It was the same smirk Julian wore whenever they decided they were playing.  _ Fuck.  _ Now was not the time to get hard. Definitely not. “Dean asked for me to make him a sandwich.” The smirk deepened. “So I made him a sub.” 

Dean choked on the pickle chip that decided it wanted to slide down his throat whole. 

“I’d dare say it was the best sub I ever made,” Julian continued sipping his water and thwacking Dean on the back to help him dislodge the pickle chip, which worked. “Isn’t that right, Dean?” 

“Yeah,” Dean said weakly, blushing. 

“Must’ve been one hell of a sub,” Kurt chuckled. “Dude, you okay?” he asked, noticing Dean’s blushing face. 

“Yeah,” Dean said, clearing his throat. “I’m fine.” Underneath the table, he grabbed Julian’s thigh and dug his nails into the meat of it, knowing his husband would get the hint. 

The rest of the dinner party turned onto other matters. 

 

“Have a good night!” Dean bade the last of their guests goodbye before closing the door to their house and walking into the living room. Wrapping himself up in his favorite fur blanket, he flicked the TV on to something mindless and snuggled down. 

He was very grumpy with his husband. He knew after some gentle probing that when Julian had said that he made him a sub, they all thought it was the sandwich, which he was thankful for. But he also knew that his Dom knew that Dean wasn’t comfortable with flaunting their kinkier sides. And today came close. Especially with the whole ‘choke on a pickle chip and turn the color of a red delicious apple’ bit. 

What made matters worse was those  _ were  _ the first words Dean had spoken to Julian. 

“Dean.” 

Oh God. Julian was going to suck up to him. Dean firmed his resolve, that he instantly lost some of that when he looked and saw his husband standing there, holding a generous slice of pie and a contrite smile. “Mind if I cuddle with you?” he asked politely. 

“Sure,” Dean grunted, moving so Julian could slip in next to him and leaned against his husband. 

“You’re not happy with me, I surmise,” Julian said, cutting off a bite of pie with a fork and held it up Dean’s lips. Dean ate the bite, sighing happily. Julian had made the pies, and the cherry was decadent, as usual. 

“You know that I don’t like it known what we do in the bedroom,” Dean reminded his husband, eating the next proffered bite. 

“I thought it was clever,” Julian smiled, kissing the top of Dean’s head. 

“Jules, I’m  _ still  _ embarrassed that those were the first words I said to you,” he whined. “Because I thought you were one of the  _ waiters  _ at the fancy dinner I had to go to because  _ Sam  _ had to marry into some ritzy family. And you kind of had the Jenkins vibe.” 

Julian huffed an amused sigh, tugging Dean closer and feeding him another bite of pie. “Are you suggesting that I enjoy serving people?” he asked, arching an eyebrow elegantly. 

“Well now that I know you, no,” Dean said, feeling a little more warm towards his husband. Teasing him will do that. “But there’s plenty of dissatisfied butlers in the world.” 

Julian sighed and shook his head with a fond smile. “What _ ever  _ am I going to do with my beautiful, wonderful, intelligent sub?” he murmured. 

Dean turned pink. There were the compliments. Fuck. He was weak. “Hopefully feed me, love me, and not leave me until it’s time to bury you six feet under,” he said back cheekily. 

“Brat,” Julian sighed, tugging Dean closer. 

“You love me as a brat, Jules,” Dean smiled, resting his head on Julian’s shoulder. 

“That I do,” Julian agreed, running his thumb up and down Dean’s thigh. 

The pie was finished off in no time and Dean shifted so he was laying down with his head on Julian’s lap. 

“I apologize if my joke earlier caused you embarrassment,” Julian murmured, running his fingers through Dean’s hair. 

“It’s okay,” Dean mumbled. 

“You’re only saying that because no one figured out what I actually meant,” Julian teased. 

Dean shivered. “I never got that sandwich,” he pouted. 

Julian arched a brow. “I’d dare say what I gave you in the coat closet was  _ infinitely  _ better than any sandwich.” 

Dean couldn’t hold back the whine that echoed in his throat. He remembered that well. Julian had persuaded him to skip the fourth- or was it the fifth course?- to go to the coat closet and did some sort of Dom magic that had Dean falling to his knees in front of the older man. Sam  _ definitely  _ gave him the squint of suspicion, followed by a bitchface when he saw Dean gingerly sit down in the middle of whatever course they were on. “Yeah,” he mumbled. 

Julian chuckled, leaning over to kiss Dean’s temple. “My handsome husband,” he murmured. “I love you.” 

Dean’s heart swelled and he smiled, nuzzling more into Julian’s thigh. “I love you too, Jules,” he murmured. “Even when you out me as a submissive to your entire group of friends.” 

“Oh hush,” Julian laughed, giving Dean’s rear a slap. “No one knew what I meant and you  _ like  _ it when you’re on your knees for me.” 

Dean yipped and turned onto his back to look up at his husband. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want your friends to know about it,” he countered. 

Julian chuckled deeply. “I suppose. But I know some of your dark little fantasies, Dean.” 

Dean flushed dark. “Not fair,” he protested weakly.

“Totally fair,” Julian smirked. “It’s getting late, we won’t have time for a full scene like I know we’re both wanting. We have early mornings tomorrow.” 

Dean got up, shedding the blanket and climbed onto Julian’s lap, straddling his husband’s thighs. “Doesn’t mean we can’t fuck without the scene, Jules,” he murmured. 

“Insatiable,” Julian murmured fondly, cupping the back of Dean’s head and bringing him in for a kiss. 

Dean kissed him back, nipping the paper thin bottom lip mischievously and receiving a pull of hair for his troubles, making him groan. 

“Tomorrow,” Julian murmured against Dean’s full lips, his own teeth nipping the lower one. Dean gasped before moaning. “I want you to wear something for me.”

“During the day?” Dean whispered. 

“Yes, Dean,” Julian murmured. His other hand crossed over Dean’s thigh and cupped his rapidly swelling length. “All day. Until I peel them off your legs.” 

Dean moaned. “Lace or silk, Sir?” he asked, blushing darkly. 

“I’ll decide in the morning,” Julian replied, rubbing the heel of his hand against Dean’s cock while tugging on the hairs on the nape of Dean’s neck. Dean whimpered. “For now, I want you to decide whether I take you bent over the coffee table or spread eagle on our bed.” 

“Bed, Sir,” Dean gasped. 

Julian removed his hands from Dean’s body, giving his ass another smack. “Then I suggest you get there quickly and strip. I’ll lock up.” 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell
> 
> Comments and Kudos are Shiny!!


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